Continuity

The room is quiet and it outperforms the sound of my movements

A quick glance out of the window

Has daylight arrived?

So a tree fell in the forest today

And I heard it

So I stood on the shoulders of giants to find the source

And I found it underneath the dull orange of a reflective cloud cover

A glassy, silvery pond bordering the roots

This building is empty so I attempt to fill it with sound

It’s a full sound but it only fills so much

And I expect with a building so empty

That someone could hear it and join me

But everyone has no ears... or I can’t play loudly enough

It’s so wonderful to see you

I love you, yes I do, just listen

And hear he comes of course to crack the atmosphere

Oh yes, jump in his arms! Celebrate his arrival!

He crashes his plate to the floor with obnoxious intent

So everyone applauds his actions when I am allowed only mindless conversation?

A daily occurrence

Almost as if daily within a daily occurrence

A short to long list creating an ephemeral turbulence

Rattling around in my head, lit by square light

I can’t keep opening the envelope, it changes nothing

Only changing seconds to minutes and making me suppress

Suppress, suppress

I’m depressed

When will she open my envelope?

I’m waiting, and I continue to continue waiting

Continuity is said to be grand in art but it isn’t here

If she could make it that would be nice

But an early warning would suffice

Ideally, though, a long drive would end with a longer time

With her as she is and myself as I would be if I could be who I needed to be

Anyway, right, Locke’s blank slate

We would be free for Night’s taking

Suddenly, a knock on the door to my right

A door that opens to a past hallway

A past hallway. Right.

Like the hallway ever left the present or future

A quick glance into the curving lens of my false sense of privacy

She passed through the lens, like light

And danced on my eyes until the image was burned into my reality

A virtual image of the real one in my mind’s eye

Soon a playful hello and a smile to warm a hardened core; I’m taken

And it’s a pathetic combination of excitement and dreading

That sends my mind reeling and soon threading

A world in which we are possible and failure is a failed concept

Four days equal four months and theres a steady breeze to blow her hair

The air is warm so her skin, her legs and shoulders are never concealed

The sun is setting and the breeze ripples her shirt, a little skin revealed

The world is focusing, buffering, and is soon interrupted

My friends have arrived and it’s high time to head inside